A Weekend in Seattle
by Hollywoodx4
Summary: When Quinn is invited back to her parents house for a mini vacation, she's less than thrilled. With her perfect younger sisters, her inaudible step dad, and her abusive mother, a lot can happen in a weekend. Re-Rated T for child abuse. Final Chapter up!
1. Day 1 The cards don't lie

A weekend in Seattle.

Day 1,

May 9, 2008

The California wind buzzed around me as I stood silently on the sidewalk. My brown hair had a single braid in it, my usual style. It was lightly caressing my cheek, and I let the wind blow it in complete disorder, not caring how messy it got. I snuggled deeper into my sweater and shoved my hands in my jean pockets. The sun was rising in the horizon, its rays crashing against the far away ocean. The distant cry of a seagull could be heard, and it soothed me.

I sat on the sidewalk, pulling my suitcases in front of me. Logan, Zoey, Chase, Lola, and Michael were sitting, too. We were waiting for my ride to Seattle, my hometown in which I would be staying for the weekend. My parents were picking me up, and I was going to spend the entire weekend with them and my little sisters, Morgan and Kelsi. It wasn't an event I was looking forward to that much, because I didn't know what to expect. I never really got along with my parents. They expected so much from me, and it never felt like what I did was enough. Sometimes I felt like they didn't even know I existed.

That's why I came to PCA. My parents supposedly thought I would have more opportunities to excel here, and when I asked, they were packing my stuff right away. I like it better here, though. Everyone is so much nicer here than the people back home, and now I cannot think of anywhere else I'd rather be than here.

"So, when are your parents coming?" Zoey asked, breaking the dreaded silence.

"I think they said 6." At least, I was pretty sure they had said six.

"Remind me again why I got up to sit on a cold sidewalk at 5 in the morning." That was Michael. He was moving his arms up and down in a confusing pattern, mocking the way he would play with his clackers.

I didn't have a good reason for that. Well, I guess you could say it was a good reason. "Because, you're my friends, and a friend will do that for their friend." Michael's expression turned from confused to, well, even more confused. He wove his fingers in the air, as if I had just asked him to solve an extremely hard math problem.

A horn honked, and I groaned. Looking up I saw my dad's navy blue car pulling up in front of us. He rolled down his window, and I could see he hadn't changed a bit. Same old round face, dark hair, and round glasses. The passenger's door flew open, and I heard the clack of my mom's high heels as she tried to run toward me. Her short brown hair was up in a bun, and she was wearing something that looked like a business suit. She gripped onto my shoulders and pulled me into a hug. I was sure she was going to crush every bone in my body.

Behind me, I could tell it must have been awkward, because I heard coughing and the shuffling of feet. I wriggled out of my mom's grasp and stood next to Zoey.

"Mom, you remember Zoey, right?" She nodded, causing her bun to bounce up and down. "This is Chase, Lola, Michael, and Logan." I ended at Logan, and he shook hands with my mom.

"Oh, so _this_ is the one you've been telling me about?" My cheeks turned bright pink. I could feel them burning up. She gestured me to the side so we could talk privately, and I followed suit. We were a few feet away. She looked me in the eyes, and I could tell it was not going to be good. "Honey, I don't know how to tell you this," She began, placing her arm on my shoulder. "I _really_ don't think you should be seeing this boy."

I almost choked on my own spit. I only managed a soft "What?" Oh, trust me. I wanted to scream and yell and attack her with questions, but that's all I could get out. I was excessively shocked. Only two seconds with Logan and she already disliked him.

"I just think he isn't the right person. His hair looks like he got a perm, and his over-all appearance makes him look like he should be on Bay-Watcher. Besides, I got a really bad aura from him."

Let me explain…my mom, besides being a legal psycho, (you know it's true, mom) is _insanely_ superstitious. I swear, on Friday the 13th in 4th grade, she made me wear a hand knit sweater of four leaf clovers she'd spent all the month before searching for. She keeps cloves of garlic on every door, and salt on every windowsill. She swears aliens abducted her, too. In addition, she highly believes in auras. When I asked what kind of aura she didn't like, she laughed.

"Dear, can't you see it? It's the aura of pompous and snob." I guess I couldn't blame her for getting what I had gotten my first day of school. However, the thing was, that's what everyone thought of Logan. Although they didn't know him the way I did.

"But mom, I swear he's not like that!" I protested.

"THE CARDS DON'T LIE!" with this I could feel every one of my friend's eyes on us. My mom came closer to me and whispered, "You will not speak another word of him. You are never to come close to him, either." My eyes were tearing up now.

"But mom, I-"

"ENOUGH! In the car…" I didn't budge. If only she would hear me out.

"Can you just list—"

"NOW!" Her dangling beaded necklace clanked together, and she took my shoulders and guided me to the car. I wriggle away to hug my friends. First were Zoey and Lola, who looked upset. Michael was next, and he was crying, and Chase was last. His look was in between shocked and scared for me. I ended up, last, at Logan. I felt I couldn't look up or I'd cry. I just wanted my parents to go away. Where were they when I had needed them in eighth grade? Now that I didn't want them here at all, they had to come and ruin everything. I hugged Logan and gave them a kiss on the cheek. I was sure I would be yelled at for this, but I didn't care. My bags were already in the car, and I reluctantly climbed into the backseat next to Morgan and Kelsi, who merely looked at me and got back to their conversation. My mom was furious, and I was sure this was not going to be a fun car ride.


	2. Day 1 Pca sick

A Weekend in Seattle

A Weekend in Seattle

Day 1/ Part 2

May 9, 2008

A cloud of fog surrounded our car, and I woke up to the noise of my dad pulling through the pay toll. He talked briefly to the person at the toll, a red headed man with a British accent, and dropped his coins into the paying place. Our car kept going, the blue-grey floor vibrating as the rest of the car crept forward. I yawned sleepily and checked my watch. It was 1:45 pm. The strap of my seatbelt made me fidget, causing a sleeping Morgan to kick me in the shin. At least, I was pretty sure she was sleeping. I rested my head on my window, only to draw back sharply as ice-cold condensation pressed against my cheek. My mother was fidgeting with a deck of cards in the front seat.

It had not gone well the first few minutes before I fell asleep. Mom was yelling at me, Morgan and Kelsi were fighting, and Dad. Well, he zoned out the first thirty seconds. Anyways, she kept telling me he wasn't right, (he being Logan, if you haven't guessed) and the cards never lie, and so on. It got old the first 10 times she said it. Moreover, I had been sleeping since.

I couldn't tell what state we were in, let alone which city. My sense of direction had completely faltered in the 5 hours I had been asleep. There were no signs, just the average McDonalds and Dunkin Doughnuts and the occasional Wal-Mart. There were palm trees, which told me I was definitely still in California. Besides, it takes 12 hours to get from PCA to Seattle, and it had been only five. I groaned. The trip was less than half over.

The car squeaked to a stop. I looked up, hoping my calculations were wrong and we were actually there, but it was just a red light. My mom turned around in her seat and examined me. I became self-conscious and closed my eyes. Not that I thought it would help, because I had gotten over the whole 'If I close my eyes nobody will see me' thing when I was six. I opened my eyes to see her eyes move up and down my body, as if she were trying to remember every last piece of information on one of her court cases. (She's a lawyer, too. The only reason I didn't mention it is because nobody really 'needs her services' anymore.) She shook her head in frustration and returned her focus to the front, where the fire truck red of the stoplight was turning to lime green. The sudden stop made Morgan and Kelsi drift out of their sleep. Now, fully awake, they were bickering again.

Morgan and Kelsi are twins. They both have curly dark brown hair and bright blue eyes. They are both 10 years old, and I'm pretty sure they both hate me. I mean, I don't think they hated me before I went to PCA, because they were only 6. We used to get along, but I don't know what happened. Lately, I feel likes there's been a wall between us. They're lucky, growing up with someone close to their age. They are lucky mom and dad actually like them. But they don't go to PCA, so that's one thing I know I have. But their good luck doesn't bother me. Neither does the fact that they're bound to be famous singers by next year. I never really cared about that stuff, but I was sure my parents did.

We stopped at a drive in and I got chicken fingers. I was sure I wasn't going to eat them, because although I love them, I wasn't very hungry. And even if I was hungry, who eats chicken fingers right when they get up in the morning? Answer that, and I'll be convinced. Convinced of what? I have no clue. I took a sip of the orange juice I ordered and fished through my bright blue backpack. I asked for make-up work, forgetting I would be gone during the weekend, and I was given the work for next week. I figure I get it done now, and I can relax more when I get back to PCA. Wow, I was already thinking of that, and I haven't even been home yet. I had algebra, so I took out my notebook and started to do the first problem.

1. x2 + x + -3.75 0

My pencil lay flat on the paper, my eyes focused on the math I used to love. I was bored out of my brain. I found my self unconsciously doodling in the margins of my blue lined paper. When I looked up, I saw almost 3 whole hours had gone by. I guess I must have spaced out, because I had rainbows, hearts, and little people and animals covering my paper. It looked like a years worth of thoughts out on one paper. I was going absolutely nowhere with this work. I kept getting distracted. In addition, we were in my favorite city in California, Oakland. I could see the highways, gracefully intertwined. Cars of every color were on the road, and we were just one in a million in a sea of fish, or, cars if you don't like my comparison. I could see the ocean from where we were, and it made me feel homesick. No, let me correct myself when I say _PCA_ sick. I miss PCA. Our car rumbled along, and I could hear the occasional blare of music from other cars, whose owners apparently wanted to make themselves go def.

Anyway, we were just driving along through Oakland. I kept looking out to the ocean. Although I couldn't smell the saltiness of the ocean, I knew it was there. Just like I knew my friend's would be waiting for me on the other side on May 11, 2008. I'm already counting down the days.


	3. Day 1 Illegal Cell phone use

A Weekend in Seattle

A Weekend in Seattle

Day 1 – Part 2

May 9, 2008

I am bored out of my mind. Kelsi and Morgan are playing a card game called spit. I played a few rounds, but got bored easily. In counting, this is their 7th round, and I don't know how they can stand it. So far, I've watched _The Lion King, The Parent Trap, The Notebook, Pride and Prejudice, _and _Titanic._ My brain hurts so much, and I've got so many songs stuck in my head. The sun is high in the sky now, it being 5pm and all. I've read all of the books I've packed, and I'm done half of next week's work. I am so bored it's scary. Again, I had no clue where we were. I half-hoped we were in Seattle. I mean, they _are_ my family…I should want to spend time with them…right?

"Wanna know a really fun game?" I asked Morgan and Kelsi, turning toward them. They stopped, mid slap. If you haven't guessed, spit is a mildly violent game. My sisters make it much more violent than needed.

"What's it called?" Well, that grabbed their attention. Kelsi looked curious, and Morgan, being who she is, looked quite annoyed with both Kelsi and me.

"Well, it's called Would You Rather. I ask you a question like "Would you rather jump off a 6 foot tall cliff, or only be able to eat spiders for the rest of your life?" Then, you answer it. The only thing is, you can only have one question about each situation." Kelsi looked at me weird.

"Would you have to pick one of the choices?"

"Well, yeah. That's the whole point of the game!"

"…That's stupid."

Kelsi and Morgan went back to playing spit, and I went back to looking out the window. We were now in Corning, California. I could see an open field through my window. The grass was lush, as if it was the artificial kind you see on infomercials. There were too many cows to count, some brown, others black and white. The field seemed to stretch forever. Miles and miles of endless grass. On the left of the cow's grazing place, there was a bright red barn. It had a dirt pathway leading up to a stable, which was also bright red. The barn looked just how you would describe one to a little kid. It even had the smaller door above the main one, where the chicken would pop out in children's books and movies. I thought it was funny, how one simple red barn could grab my attention for so long. I watched it until it faded into the horizon, our car rumbling by.

That took up a few minutes of my time. So now, I'm sitting here, staring at my bag, which is on the floor next to my overnight stuff. When I say bag, I mean half purse, half-school stuff bag. I have no clue how to explain it, except it's sky blue, and has a picture of a little fish on one side. Anyway, that bag contained my cell phone. The very phone I was specifically told not to use to call a certain 'pompous' boyfriend. However, I wasn't told I couldn't use it for other things. I dug deep into my bag, and when I found it, I flipped it open, revealing a picture of Zoey, Chase, Lola, Vince, Michael, and Logan. It said above that I had two unread text messages. The first one was from Lola, and it said;

_New Text message _

_From: Lola_

_Date: May 9, 2008_

_Time: 4:32_

_Hey Quinn…What's up?_

Nice, and straight to the point. I hit the 'reply' button and wrote a short reply. I then looked at the other message. This one was from Logan…

_New Text Message_

_From: Logan_

_Date: May 9, 2008_

_Time: 3:30_

_How are you holding up? And what did your mo—_

I didn't have time to read the rest, because my mom took the phone out of my hands. I gasped in surprise. Her eyes skimmed the screen, and I was sure I was going to get another 'stern' talking to. Her face protruded an angry scowl. She turned to my father.

"Nathaniel, can you please pull the car over?" She asked, her voice coming out sweet. Although I could see her teeth were gritted and her lip had a slight twitch. He pulled the car over, and my mom turned around to face me.

"Do you think this is funny?" Holding up the phone, she pointed to the new text message.

"It's a text message. You said no talking on the phone…you never said anything about texting." I replied, stating the truth. That was definitely the wrong answer.

"Oh, so a few years at PCA and you're suddenly a smart alec? " I could practically see the flames in her eyes, and the smoke billowing through her ears, black and cloudy. "You disobeyed the cards, myself, and your father." She then grasped my shoulders. But, not in the loving way she had when she first saw me. She was shaking me, trying to make the message clear. "DO YOU UNDERSTAND??" I felt tears brim my eyes. There was no way I was going to let her see me cry. She then let go of me, opened her window, and threw my phone as far as she could, almost hitting an innocent pedestrian. That's when I did it. I got out of the car, in clear California traffic. I didn't know where I was going, but it was anywhere but here. When I got to the grassy part near the rode, I ran. I kept running and running, until collapsing from exhaustion underneath a large tree. I then let it all out. I cried for my mother's abusive side, for the pain from where her nails dug into me, from my family's hate toward me, for missing everyone. My face was hot and sticky, and my shoulder's were dripping with blood, but I didn't care. No pain was greater than being abused by your own mother. No pain was greater than the one I was feeling now.


	4. Day 1 Abuse

A Weekend in Seattle

May 9, 2008

Day 1

I don't know how long I stayed out there, but I do know the sun was just setting when I sat up. The sky was orange- yellow, but that's beside the point. The point is, I'm a wimp. There, I said it. I've always been a wimp, and I always will be. I mean, I may be a little hard on myself, but I've learned that self esteem is for wimps. Or, at least that's what my mother used to tell me. Why don't I just explain what happened back there, with the violent shaking of my shoulders, the crying, and the thing about abuse.

One day, when I was six, I had just come home from elementary school. It was May, but that's not important. My mom and dad were in the middle of a fight. I was used to it, and it had become routine for me. Would come home and they would be yelling. But they would make up in the end…they always did. But this time was different. My father walked out on my mom.

At first, I thought everything was normal. My dad traveled a lot, so I thought he was going on another business trip. He was a consultant at a big company…no, a travel agent. The only reason I remember this is because he would always bring me back something….a stuffed animal, a keychain, and a map were his favorite's. So, this time, he was leaving for good. When I went downstairs, (I was watching them argue from my bedroom) my mom was crying on the front porch. I tried to comfort her, but she slapped my hand away when I tried to hug her. I figured she just wanted me to give her some time alone. But instead, she grabbed me by the hand and shook me. I cried, and she made it worse by calling me a wimp.

"This is all _your_ fault… You're a spoiled little piece of crud. I hate you!" I can still hear those words ringing through my ears. She then gave me a good slap to my face, and I ran upstairs. I didn't know if I should call someone, or if she had too much to drink again. All I knew was that that feeling hurt. And the worst part is, it didn't stop.

The abuse kept going on. I was tired in school, and I was always trying to cover up the bruises I got. When someone saw, I had to give a lame excuse, like 'I fell down the stairs' and 'I tripped.' I was the school klutz. My grades were slipping, and my world was being turned upside down. All because my mom started drinking again.

I would come home, and mom would either be passed out on the couch or waiting for me at the door. The days she was passed out were lucky for me, it was my only escape. I would go up in my room, in my closet on my 3rd shelf. It was the only shelf large enough for a first grade girl to fit on. I would color, relax, and mend my wounds. But those were the lucky days.

On the unlucky days, I would come home unwillingly. She would squeeze me like she loved me, but it was more of a choke. I would get hit and spanked for no reason. I have been pushed down the stairs more times the finest mathematician can count. My mom never forgave me for getting smarter, either. In the third grade, I realized this was wrong, so I called the police. They arrested my mom, but when she got out of jail 2 years later, she promised me she had changed. I was wrong for moving back with her.

Her breath stank of beer and cigarettes. Her eyes were wrinkled at the edges, along with her cheeks. Her face was pale, similar to mine. Her nose seemed much larger from the last time I had seen her. Anyways, she came in close and pretended to hug me until the social workers were gone. Then, she gave me the beatings to make up for the ones I missed. It went on like this until 8th grade. She let me go to PCA. I didn't know why, but I was glad. Maybe it was the persuasion of Nathaniel, her new husband, and my new step dad. Although we weren't related by blood, at least he treated me like I was. At least he was sad when I left. Mother just lay on the couch, her eyes looking at nothing. Her pupils were the size of saucers, which only told me she was back to drinking once again.

By now, I am breathing heavily, and sobbing. I can tell you every place I have a cut, a bruise. My step dad has found me, and is trying to calm me down. He is stroking my back the way my father used to do. He is whispering words like "Hush, darlin'" and "It'll be ok" He gets me to go back into the car. I don't want to go, but I have to. I feel if I go now, I will be failing. And Quinn Pensky never fails.


	5. Day 2 Three Truths and a Lie

A Weekend in Seattle

A Weekend in Seattle

Day 2

May 10, 2008

We are finally here. At the light blue house with the red door. The house I haven't seen since 9h grade, because I'd always go to someone else's house for vacation instead of here. It has a cute paved walkway lined with green hedges and red-pink trees. I haven't been here since Otis died. I always refused to come back, because there was no point in coming back without Otis.

I slammed the door of the car and ran inside. When I got to my old room, I ran to my bed and stared at the ceiling. My room was a pale yellow, and my bed sheets were blue with flowers on them. I got up and walked to the closet. I knew what I was headed for…the writings. My hand touched the doorknob and I was blasted with a thousand memories. I ripped it open and went right to the third shelf. The one a poor first grader had to use for her only escape. There was a box on that shelf, and my hands traced the familiar tin foil lining. I opened it, and inside were letters, trinkets, and pictures. I could tell you how many times I've had to hide this, but that'd be a waste. Let me just read you a letter.

_Dear Whoever,_

_Mommy had too much to drink again. She's on the couch and she looks dead. I know she is not. She has too much a lot since daddy left. I don't know her anymore. She hits me and makes me cry a lot. I want daddy back. I miss his hugs. He was always better than mom, but don't tell her that. I got a new one today. She threw me down the stairs. I couldn't breathe and I was scared. Everything was black then I woke up. I was dizzy. Help me please. Give this to someone who can help me. _

_ Quinn_

I remember writing that letter. It was the first day she had ever thrown me down the stairs. I actually had a broken leg, and the school nurse gave me a cast. My mom took it off right when I got home from school.

I head a knock at my door. I hid my box, jumped back on the bead, and told whoever it was to come in. It was Morgan and Kelsi. Kelsi ran to me and cried in my shoulder. Morgan looked upset, but didn't really show it.

"We want to come to PCA with you." Morgan's voice sounded small and weak. And that's a lot to say since Morgan is usually the tougher one. I asked what happened. "We'll play a game to show you."

"It's called three truths and a lie." Kelsi explained the game, then we played. It was their turn first.

"1, We both have boyfriend's now. 2, We're asking mom and dad if we can go to PCA. 3, We've been discovered by a talent agency 4, Mom's started to abuse us, too."

Logically, I'm going to solve this. _1, We both have boyfriend's now_. I wouldn't be surprised._ 2, We're asking mom and dad if we can go to PCA. _When they came to visit with dad, they said they couldn't wait to go…so probably. _3, We've been discovered by a talent agency._ Woukdnlt be surprised…probably yes. _Mom's started to abuse us, too. _Whoa, did not see that coming. Can I say lie?? I mean, mom loves them, there's no way.

"Number 4 is the lie." I stated. This made Keli burrow back into my shoulder. Morgan was starting to tear up. She looked me right in the eyes and said;

"Actually… It's number 3."


	6. Day 2 The Plan

A Weekend in Seattle

A Weekend in Seattle

Day 2 Part 2

May 10, 2008

I couldn't believe what I just heard. The only reason I did believe it was because Kelsi was still sobbing on my shoulder, and even Morgan was tearing up. I let them both sit on my bed, they told me stories of how mom had changed, she started drinking, and then the abuse came. When they had finished explaining, they both rolled up their sleeves.

Kelsi had a scar on her arm as long as a ruler, and as wide as a pencil. The rest of her arm was covered with bruises and cuts. Morgan had the same scar, and she had another one on her face, too. Her arms and legs also had cuts and purple – blue bruises on them. It was revolting, and I found myself staring at their matching scars.

"She got real mad at us one night." Morgan began, "We asked her for help with our homework. We couldn't see she had been drinking. She got so mad, she dragged us both into the kitchen. She said she was going to show us 'how fractions work.' She tried to cut our arms off, Quinn. Then, when she missed, we both tried running away. We got away safely, but that's how I got the scar on my face." I just looked at them, saddened. "Yeah, try explaining these to your teacher."

And that's when I had the idea. It was crazy, and possibly life-threatening, but I knew I had to get them away from the life I used to live. This was no life for any kid, especially not my own sisters.

"I have a plan." I told them, and asked them to come close. But out in the open, we knew the plan wouldn't be safe. We didn't want it being heard by the one we were protecting it from…the one we used to call our mother. So, I lead them into my closet, where we all sat on the hardwood floor. On the floor, I had my notebooks, some pillows, a pickle jar full of perfectly sharpened pencils, and my lucky stuffed frog. It was a little cramped in there, and I could tell I was going to be claustrophobic after this, but we sat there, going over the plan, and the route we'd need in my notebook. It was getting darker, and we couldn't tell how long we had been in there, until Nathaniel called us down for dinner.

The dining room smelt of spaghetti and fancy French bread. I could hear mom and Nathaniel talking happily, and Mom pouring herself a drink. This was going to be a long night.

We entered the dining room through the sliding door. Kelsi and Morgan sat on one side of the table, mom and Nathaniel on the other. I sat myself at the head of the table, where I used to sit. I glanced over and Morgan and Kelsi, and they shot my a knowing look. They knew what would happen after dinner, just as I knew when I was their age. And, all three of us knew we had to act fast.

"Mom, Kelsi and I don't feel good. May we be excused?" Morgan asked, holding her stomach and wincing in pain. Kelsi followed suit, and I soon did the same. I even threw in a fake gag, for good measure.

"All right, go upstairs. All three of yah." Her reply was groggy and slurred, as if she already had too much to drink. I rushed up to my room and started to re-pack my bags. Kelsi and Morgan ran into their room and started packing, too. I soon was finished, and went into their room to see if they were done. They were arguing…something about a green blouse. I rushed to the closet, rummaged around a bit, and shoved it at them. Kelsi gave Morgan an apologetic look and kept packing.

"Now, the arrangements are all made. You'll be PCA students in no time." Trust me, the arrangements weren't as easy as they looked.

"How'd you pay for it?" Morgan stopped short and looked at me. That part wasn't easy either, and I intended to steer clear of it for a while, at least until I knew they would understand.

When we were all done packing, we went into Kelsi and Morgan's closet to go over the plan again. Together, we had enough money for a few bus rides, so we planned them wisely. First, we would take the bus from here to Puyallup, where one of Kelsi's friends lived. From Puyallup, we'd take another bus all the way to St.Helens, where I'd made arrangements at Holiday Inn. From there, we'd take a train to Quincy, California. There, we'd be staying with Glenda and Marcov Martinez, who were there on business. From the Martinez place, I got someone to pick us up and drive us back to PCA. With this plan, we'd only have to walk about a mile, and we'd be homebound before the school week began.

We climbed out the window and onto the roof of the houses addition. From there, we climbed down the trellis. First me, then Kelsi, and then Morgan. Then, we started walking to the bus station. To our new lives. To a rescue so dangerous, it'd be like the underground railroad.


	7. Day 2 Down to Puyallup

A Weekend in Seattle

A Weekend in Seattle

Day 2 /Part 2

May 10, 2008

I can feel the wind coming toward us, in a series of dips and twirls. It scrapes against the trees, making a thwack as the branches crash together. When the wind gets to us, it ruffles my hair, and caresses my cheek. It feels nice, even on a cold night. The way it makes me feel more at home. I can almost smell the salt water. But, unfortunately, we are not even close to the final point of our journey. In contrast, we haven't even started, yet.

Kelsi, Morgan, and I are standing on the sidewalk, waiting for the bus to Puyallup. We're all huddled close together, because the night wind is frighteningly cold. Think of the coldest day you can think of. I can say for about 88 of you that this night is colder. I think it's about 20 degrees…not to mention the wind-chill.

I wish I had one more chance to start that day of first grade all over. Then maybe things wouldn't have gone so bad. Maybe mom would still be together with dad. Maybe things would be better for Morgan and Kelsi. I regret this thought, because they wouldn't be born. Mom had them while she was in jail, with some random guy who was in for something like a national manhunt or something.

The bus pulled up, and we got in. Morgan, then Kelsi, and then me. We paid our quarters and found seats toward the middle of the bus, right next to the heater. The doors closed with a swish, and the bus rumbled onward.

An hour later, Kelsi was asleep on Morgan's shoulder, and Morgan was slumped against the side of the seat. Again, I felt boredom, and the anticipation to write. So, I looked back on a prompt I'd never even glanced at.

_Write a letter to someone you feel you need to spend more time with._

I knew exactly who I was going to write to. Soon, my whole brain was absorbed in the letter, my pencil making scratch noises on the pear green notebook I was using.

_Dear Nathaniel,_

_I know we don't spend much time together, and I know we've only just met a few years ago, but I am writing this to thank you. I thank you for when we were headed to the house, and mom was shaking me, and I ran. You came looking for me. You protected me in my time of need. And that was one of the nicest things anyone has ever done for me. And I know I may be asking too much, but please, hear me out._

_I can tell you why we've left the house._

_And why we're not coming back._

_Our mother hits us. She has abused me since first grade. In third grade, I called the police on her. In fifth grade, she was back. Back with two new babies. No, they're not from her previous marriage. They're from some guy in jail, this case that we need not go into. When I left for PCA, It was for a reason. I didn't know she'd start abusing Morgan and Kelsi, too._

_Therefore, we've left. Moreover, we're not coming back. I'm sorry we've put you through this, if you're worried at all, but we're not taking this pain and suffering anymore. We've had enough. I'm just trying to protect my sisters. Oh, and don't worry. We've got enough money to last us until we get safely to PCA, where Kelsi and Morgan will be staying with me. We've arranged housing and hotel room for the days we'll be gone, and we'll soon be making arrangements for the summer. Again, we are never coming back. I advise you to leave, too. She's a drunk. In addition, no matter how much you may love her, I don't believe she'll ever change. Sorry for the sadness of this note, but it's time we enjoyed the rest of our childhoods. _

_ Sincerely,_

_ Quinn_

_P.S Please do not tell our mother. I have a feeling she will stop at nothing to get us, and I want only safety for my sisters. We've found each other, and we're not letting go again._

I tucked the paper into an envelope, and gave the spare stamp I had a good lick. Once the letter was addressed, it went back into my backpack, where I knew it would be safe.

We arrived in Puyallup at three the next morning. I woke Kelsi and Morgan, and we made our way out onto the sidewalk. From the station, it was only a few blocks to Kelsi's friend's house. We walked along the sidewalk, ignoring the cold morning. We walked in silence. However, it was a good kind of silence. It was as if we knew we had each other, and that was all we really needed. Just the three of us, starting an adventure like the ones we used to play when we were little. Only, this was no child's game. This was the real thing.


	8. Day 2 That Wasn't Lizzie

**This chapter is dedicated to all of the reviewers...because without you, I probably wouldn't have forced myself to write this chapter as fast as I did...well, it wasn't that fast, but it was considering how slowly I updated the other stories. **

**Disclaimer (i know this is the first one..) I wish I owned Zoey 101, but I don't... oh well. **

A Weekend in Seattle

Day 2 part 4

May 10, 2008

We walked in a comfortable silence on the concrete sidewalks. The sun was poking above the horizon, trying to get out from behind the tall skyscraper that was blacking its view. The rays danced along buildings and cars, reflecting itself as if to say 'look what I can do, look what I can do!'

We must have looked weird, three girls walking the Puyallup streets at four in the morning, the hoods of our sweatshirts pulled up as far as they could be. But we were on a mission. We needed warmth, and soon.

I ask Morgan how much longer until we get to her friends house, and she says it'll take us about another hour.

"I can't wait that long! My fingers are almost purple…and I'm starving. When can we eat?" Kelsi asks, whining. They both look at me, and I suddenly realize my sisters are respecting me, asking me for guidance. Sure, it's only about when we can eat, but I can see a new level of respect, and I'm liking it. I take out a booklet I got on the bus and open up to the section about Puyallup's best places to eat. I find one, and it's only about a block away. So, we keep walking.

The place is called Big Al's Honkin' Pancakes. That's what the sign says, and under that, it says "They're so good, they're sinful!" it's all in lettering that looks like rope. It's a country themed restaurant, and right when we open the door, we are greeted with the smell of scented candles and pancakes and blueberry syrup. I can see why they say the pancakes are sinful, and we haven't even eaten yet. Behind an old wood counter is a redhead girl with her hair in pigtails. Her face is covered with a splash of freckles, and you can just see a faint hint of mascara on her eyelashes. She greets us in a real southern accent, and she's real perky. I tell her the usual…how many are in your 'party, 'table or booth,' that kind of stuff. We end up at a booth near the corner, with a window right next to us. She gives us our menus, and we thank her.

The menu is full of stud. Entrees, appetizers, breakfast, lunch, dinner…they even had dessert. And it was all breakfast stuff. Much better than the chicken I had when we were on the road. Morgan gets a stack of blueberry pancakes and blueberry syrup, Kelsi gets an omelet with 'savory bacon and cheese, so good it'll make a young girl cry.' And I get French toast with bacon on the side. We all sit down to eat, and I tell them everything that went on in my years at PCA. They laugh at most of the stories, and they almost cry when I tell them about the time Chase's grandmother died when he was at his birthday party. I tell them about Zoey and Chase, junior prom, Logan, Lola and Vince, Michael, and, well, everything. Then they tell me about what I've missed. Dances, boys, music, mom's beatings, Nathaniel, visiting our aunt in Maine, and school in general.

When we're done and our bellies are full, and the bill is paid, we head out into the cold again. Morgan says we're only a block away from her friend's, so we keep walking. Our stomachs are cramping and our feet are beginning to numb, but she says it's only a little longer, so we keep going. When we're so tired we can't move on, we stop at a bench to take a rest. It's silent except for birds singing their songs in the trees, calling to one another, and the occasional car rumbling by. Sometimes, a person would walk by, but they wouldn't ask questions, to our relief. They would only give a curt nod, and regain focus on the road ahead. We wouldn't mind. We liked the silence. I had started getting used to it, and it could be surprisingly comforting at times.

When we were better, we kept walking. Knowing we were only a little bit away from our destination was motivating, and by now our blood is pumping, and we are racing on the empty streets to number six Thrushling Lane. When we get there, we are wheezing and out of breath. Morgan then whips out her green envy and texts Lizzie, her friend who lives here. 20 minutes…no reply. She tries again, and in 20 more minutes, there is still no reply. Therefore, we sit down and wait. When her phone finally rings, it's an hour later, and we're almost frostbitten. Morgan turns to me, and I can see the color flushing from her cheeks, and when she speaks, it's a horrified tone.

"That wasn't Lizzie…that was mom. She wants us home so she can punish us for the last time…"


	9. Day 2 A Normal Day in Puyallup?

My first response was to tell Morgan she was just fooling around with us, but I could see the cold terror in her eyes, and I knew this was real. This was right now. Morgan was as pale as her old winter coat, which her face was now buried in. Kelsi was crying, Morgan was shaking, and I had no clue what to do. I didn't know if I was scared, or still with shock. Time seemed to go in slow motion, my hands covering my face so the tears wouldn't have chance of falling. This is when I really needed to be strong. I knew it was now or never.

"Guys…we have to keep walking. She may know where we are, and I didn't come this far for all of us to be brought back to our old lives." I tried to keep calm, but my voice was becoming shaky, and my knee was bouncing up and down. I got up off of the cold, concrete steps and shook the pain out of my sleeping right leg. I helped Morgan and Kelsi up, and gestured for them to grab their bags. I grabbed mine, and it felt like a whole new weight was being added to the heavy burden I was currently carrying. It was silent, but our breath was shaky, our silhouettes dancing along ahead of us, as if to say "Hurry, hurry!"

My mind was racing with "what ifs" and I was scared. I was honestly and truly scared. What if she catches us? What if we don't make it? What if one of us gets hurt? I couldn't take the nagging rumble my stomach made, almost yelling at me for leaving that last bacon slice on my plate. We walked by bakeries, the smell of fresh bread and doughnuts teasing us. We finally agreed to stop and get something to eat.

Our table was a creamy brown color, with wooden chairs to match. The chairs had cushions that were pastel green, to match the color of the wall. The room was so inviting, I thought I could stay there forever. The bakery's walls were neatly arranged with cute pictures of cupcakes and muffins with smiley faces on their tops. I never thought I would say this, but I wish I were as happy as those muffins.

When we were finally done eating, (and it took a while, because Morgan's a slow eater, and I had coffee that was boiling hot) we scraped up the money to pay, and then bundled back up and pushed our chairs in. The bell to the bakery door clinked as we opened it, and we were immediately face with the bright rays of the sun.

It was hotter than it was when we got in, I'd say about 20 degrees hotter, and about 70 degrees total. It took a while, but we stood outside the shop, got un-bundled from our winter wear, and stuffed it in our oversized bags. We continued walking.

There were more people on the streets, mostly the typical working people on lunch break making light conversation over lemonade and salads. Some were chatting on cell phones, and others were busy typing on laptops. Either way, it was a pretty typical day in Puyallup. Not that I've ever been here, but I'm sure this is what it's like.

I go over a mental checklist in my head.

1. Make sure the girls and yourself are well fed. Check

2. Make sure you are dressed accordingly to the weather. Check

3. Occasionally check money supplies. I pull out the money from my backpack. I have about 5 crumpled up 50 dollar bills and 2 100s. Oh, and 4 ones. That's about 454 dollars, plenty.

4. Don't talk to anyone strange, unless absolutely necessary. Check

5. Make sure you stay safe…

This one gets me. And it hits me like an icy snowball on a warm day. I don't know if we're safe of not. As far as I know, we're just a lone group of stranded children, fighting for survival in the streets.


	10. Day 2 Coffe Shop Hostage

A Weekend in Seattle

A Weekend in Seattle

Day 2 Part 6

May 30, 2008?

We were sitting in a quint, colorful little coffee shop, getting out of the rain which had just recently started soaking us to the bone **(expression??) **I got hot coca for all of us, and sat down at a round wooden table. We sat in silence, nonchalantly sipping our coca and making light, meaningless conversation. At this point I was marveling at the fact that we were just ignoring the point I believe I made earlier. If I didn't mention it, we were being chased by a killer that was also our mother. And I was shocked we were just completely shrugging it off like it never even happened. Well, you know what.

So anyways, we were just sitting there when the small bell that hung above the entrance dinged, and Nathaniel came in. Nathaniel! I gestured for him, and he half ran half crawled over, his boots squeaking lightly with every step. He wrapped us in a tight hug, not caring that we were all shivering. He got himself a coffee and sat next to us.

"What's wrong?" Kelsi asked. We all looked so vulnerable, splattered with mud, our clothes torn at some points.

"Well…" He began, wringing his hands. The bell dinged again, and in came our mother, less soaked by the rain. Her hair was all over the place, and her eyes gleamed with a wild sense of revenge and…I hate to say it…evil. Nate (Nathaniel's nickname that I'll be calling him for the rest of this story) looked at us pitifully, then scooted away from us, only to be promptly shoved off of his chair by my mother. She sat down, not caring her skirt was all the way up, showing off her thong and her broken heart tattoo on her thigh. The owner of the coffee shop gave me a look, but my mother caught it. Before he could get to the phone, she pulled out her old gun.

"I'm telling you now, if any of you make the slightest movement, these girls will get it." She then proceeded to parade around the room, pointing the gun at innocent coffee buyers. Did I mention my mom is a total nut? "Okay, now let me just take these girls to my car, and I'll be on my way. Or, would you rather me kill them now and get it over with?" Nobody moved or said anything, in fear of being shot themselves. "Good. Then, we'll just be going. Come on, girls." She then grabbed our wrists with her 'claws.' I let out a small whimper as I felt blood come out of my hands. She was stopped when someone's cell phone went off. _Music's in my soul, I can hear it. Every day and every night, it's the one thing on my mind…_ A very popular Connect 3 song played, and I looked around for the owner of the cell phone. When I couldn't find them, I was amazed. It turned out someone actually left their cell phone in there. Lucky them. Another phone went off, but it was just the _beep, beep_ of someone dialing.

"Whoever that is is going to stop or I'll stop them myself." _Beep beep _"Come on, I mean it. I have a loaded gun." _Beep, beep beep _"I will find you, you know. This shop isn't that small." _Help me! I'm being held – _BANG! She then proceeded to shoot random phones. That is, until she noticed a phone chord leading behind the counter. BANG! One dead. I winced again as I watched more blood come from behind the counter. She was still hanging on to my arm, which had lost feeling a long time ago.

I can't really remember what happened next. I think I moved because everything just went black after my mom shoved the gun against my chest. I woke up in a very white room. So white, I had to close my eyes, then slowly open them to get used to it. Kelsi and Morgan were next to my bed, holding my good hand, my other hand was wrapped up in a cast, which they had already signed.

"Good morning." I said. They hugged me and started to cry and say things like 'we thought you died!' and ' You made it!' I was oblivious to whatever else was going on. "wh-what?" I managed to say.

So apparently shooting me once wasn't good enough for dear old mom. Oh, no, she had to do it 3 times. Once in the head, which they promptly removed, leaving a throbbing scar on my forehead. The other two in the chest, which they also removed. The scars there were less painful, though. All I wanted was my 'home' with my friends and my life and everything else that had become routine over the years. But no. I had to sit in that hospital bed and eat my disturbing, rubbery yellow eggs. That or I couldn't be released. So I began to choke down the eggs, imagining my sisters and I at pca, where we could be in only a few days.


	11. Day 3: Finally home

A Weekend In Seattle

A Weekend In Seattle

Day 3 Part 1

May 31, 2008

After being released from the hospital the next day, I went to my Aunt's house in Oakland, California. It was a beachside house, and it was very large. I woke up to seagulls calling out to each other, flying above the crashing ocean waves. Sunlight peaked in through my window, warming my face. All I wanted to do was lay there forever, basking in the glow of early morning's sun. But then my sisters had to come bounding through the open door and ruin it all. I cracked my eyes open a bit farther and sat up in my bed. They came bearing a wonderful breakfast consisting of eggs, pancakes, and toast. Kelsi placed it gingerly on my lap and sat at the foot of my bed, while Morgan sat on the floor.

Nobody said anything for a while, and I let my breakfast get cold out of old habits of not eating in front of anybody. But that habit soon died away as my stomach played a melody of rumbles, and my mouth was watering from the smell of fresh food. My senses took over as I gobbled down the food, starting with the mouthwatering pancakes and ended with the crunchy bacon. Morgan took my plate and brought it to the kitchen while Kelsi moved her place to the side of the bed. We sat in silence again, Kelsi looking around at all of the things my aunt unpacked for me. Zoey's big blue octopus she let me borrow, my Laptop, some notes and scattered drawings and notes, and my class notebooks. Pictures covered the wall, some from prom, some from first year. There was a picture of me with Zoey, Lola, and Nicole, and a picture I didn't even know I had of Michael, Logan, Chase, James, and Dustin. I could tell Kelsi was thinking about something, but I couldn't tell what.

"Kelsi, what are you thinking?" she fell out of her trance and looked at me, her eyes full of question.

"Am I going to like it there?" she sighed and let herself fall onto the bed. She was now laying down, facing the ceiling.

"I think you will. It's an amazing school, and you'll make tons of friends." Kelsi turned to me, her face now flushed pink, tears forming in her eyes. Her breathing was heavy, and she was trying hard not to cry.

"What's going to happen to mom?" She squeaked, now letting the tears fall. I hugged her with my good arm, and then rubbed her back, shushing her (in a nice, comforting way.) and telling her it would be fine.

"She's going to get help. She's going to go to a nice place where they'll help her with her problem, and she'll get better. She'll be good again, Kelsi, don't worry. And when she gets better, she won't be allowed to have us back unless we really want her to."

"How will we know if it's the right time?"

"We'll just have to trust her, and our instincts to make everything right again."

That day we left our aunt's paradise home, and started to travel to my home. When we were there, it's like all of the things we had faced together were fate. As crazy as it sounds, our adventures brought us together like nothing else ever could.

Zoey and Lola were waiting at the entrance when our aunt's car pulled up. I got out of the car, only to be pulled into a tight hug. Zoey pulled back, still holding my shoulder. Both girls were sobbing, hanging on to me. My sisters then came out of the car, and Zoey and Lola ran up and hugged them, too. I felt like I was dreaming, but in a weird way, things were finally falling into place. I finally felt like I was safe. I finally felt that I was home.


	12. Huge Author's Note! Thanks!

I haven't done one author's note this whole story, and I'm terribly sorry about that

I haven't done one author's note this whole story, and I'm terribly sorry about that. So here's one big disclaimer.

**I do NOT own Zoey 101. If I did, it would still be on TV**

Alright, then. I would like to take a moment to thank all of my reviewers. Trust me, without you, this story probably wouldn't be finished. Thanks guys 

P.S This is in no order at all. Just the order in the review box thing

**Thanks to;**

**Music of the Wind**** – **for my very first review of this story

**Lady Liln**** – **For telling me this story was original

**Daydreamer169**** – **For telling me my story was going good and saying Quinn's family is mean 

**Secrets710**** – **For giving my story a chance and getting hooked on it. And for the numerous reviews 

**TimeWitch15**** – **For telling me my story ROCKS (in caps  )

**Amy (anon.) ****– **For actually crying over my story. That means a lot.

**MamyV ****– **For numerous reviews and update requests and for saying my story was one of your favorites.

**Stabler5050**** – **For telling me to UPDATE! (in all caps  )

**Druccillamalfoyrox**** – **For not thinking you'd like my story. I'm glad you kept reading

**Itsammie735**** – **For telling me my story is awesome!

**EverAfter96**** – **For putting a frowny face in your review!!  

**Maximumfan**** – **For numerous reviews and telling me you couldn't wait for chapter 9

**Kate (anon.)**** – **For telling me to update soon! And for thinking my story is sad 

**Seattle90210 – **For telling me to update soon and for loving this story!

**The Sushi Monster – **For being hooked on this story and staying with it even though I'm a slow updater. And for being honest about how Quinn could never survive the shots 

**Snowgal95** – For liking the story and asking me to update

**Kary2156** – For asking me to kep writing…please 

P.S This was written before anyone reviewed for Chapter 11 (well, because I just posted it) so I'll try to update this list after if someone decides to review 

Well? What did you think?? Does anyone here like High School Musical?? Because I may just be doing an alternate ending to my story, Only Hope. It was my friend's idea, and I feel I should go with it. Here's a preview for all of my fairhful reviewers, readers, and fellow fan fictionists. Oh, and for you, Jamie.

Hope is now 16 years old. She has battled cancer all her life, and is still going strong. She is also a thriving musician, as her mother and father are. Here's a chapter on some of her life's struggles, and a peek inside the life of her battle with cancer, as she writes a song. Through her life, she works on it. Now, on her sixteenth birthday, it is finally complete. Kinda like a songfic. To a really good song that helped me gain inspiration for the chapter. For the alternate ending, stop before the last chapter and read this story. It'll be less depressing than the ending, don't worry.

I am not good at summaries. Especially when the plot is still jumbled in my head. Oh, well.

Again, I'd like to thank everyone for their endless comments and support. Also, I'll say this again. Does anyone want to do a collaboration writing with me? Maybe Camp Rock? HSM? Zoey 101? iCarly? Some kind of show?? Ooh! Camp Rock / Wizards of Waverly Place crossover?? If so, PM me, and we'll work it out  Thanks again, and keep reading and writing!! Check out some of my other stories, and the one soon to come  Have a great day,

Hollywoodx4


	13. Important announcement: PLEASE READ

I'm on the web

I'm on the web! Check me out at Hollywoodx4. for updates, blogs, and more!!

Hi! I'm just putting this note at the end here to let you know I have built my own official website, and it is now up and running. It is at Hollywoodx4. and here you can check for updates, blogs, and more! You can learn more about me, or see if there's a story coming up for your favorite fandom by clicking on It in the sidebar of the home page! Well, what are you waiting for? Go to Hollywoodx4. and check it out!!


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